Midnight Prey

by Caroline Burnes

  They walked south. The sun rose steadily at their right shoulder until it centered overhead, high and hot. Shadoe calculated they were a little over halfway home. There had been no sign of the horses—or the wolf. She felt her anxiety grow the closer she got to home. Were Scrapiron, Luster and the others okay? Had Jill thought to check on them when Shadoe didn’t answer the phone? Jill called almost every evening. Surely she’d think something was wrong. Shadoe tried to calm herself with those assurances. And she tried not to glance forward at Hank too often.

  She found she could not look at him without thinking what his touch could do to her. To let even the memory of his kiss whisper through her mind was torment. With all of her desire to hurry home, she also wanted to settle down beside a small stream that whispered through the newly greening grass and gaze into his eyes.

  Hank set a steady pace, but he was painfully aware of Shadoe. He made sure she kept up without straining herself, and he fought down the urge to pull her into his arms and press her down to the earth. He could see her worry, and he understood. When he looked at her, he felt such a mix of emotions, he wasn’t certain what they meant.

  Did he regret what had happened between them? He wasn’t a man much given to regret. This time, though, he knew that he had set himself up for harsh consequences. He’d felt the loss of Shadoe once before. If possible, this time it would be worse if he lost her. Still, he could not honestly say he would undo the night just past. He cast a look over his shoulder and her half-parted lips sent a rush of desire through him that was a physical pain. He turned his attention to the trail and walked.

  The path led down a sharp incline to a small gorge where Hank heard the murmur of another small stream. With the snows melting in the spring sun, the energetic streams would pop up in beds that had been dry through the winter—and would dry again in the July heat. The sound was merry, reminding Hank of the fun he and Shadoe had once shared so casually, splashing together in the cold mountain water. They had been children. Such innocents.

  She drew abreast of him. The expression on his face made her smile. “I’d ask you what you were thinking, but it’s as clear on your face as if it were written in indigo ink.”

  “I’m thinking that no matter how much we need to get home, we should take a rest beside that stream and cool our feet.” He grinned at her. “I think I feel a fever coming on. A dangerous fever.”

  The urge to get home was strong, but the desire for Hank was stronger. Shadoe nodded, her heart beating faster at just the thought.

  Their first warning was the click of metal. Hank tensed instantly, putting Shadoe to his off side as he looked up the sides of the gorge. He should have known better than to linger in a place where they could be so easily ambushed, especially when they were virtually unarmed. He’d known there was danger about. His hand went to the dagger, and he felt her drop into a crouch.

  “Shadoe, are you okay?”

  The voice came from above them, and they both whirled and looked into the barrel of the gun held by John Carpenter.

  “John!” Shadoe gasped the word. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for you.” He held the gun steady at Hank’s chest, but he eased his finger slightly away from the trigger. “Has he hurt you?”

  “No!” She finally grasped the situation—as John might possibly read it. “No, he hasn’t hurt me,” she reassured the cowboy. “It’s okay. I went up to find Hank.”

  Reluctantly John lowered the gun. He pushed his hat back slightly and stared down at the two of them. “I’ve been trailing you for about fifteen minutes. I rode up here to this gorge, hoping I could set up an ambush, if it was necessary.”

  Hank said nothing, but Shadoe could feel his anger. He was furious at the thought that someone would think he’d hurt her. Well, John’s assumption was partly her faultand a lot Hank’s. Hank had stalked back into town with an attitude a mile high. He hadn’t bothered to speak to any of his old friends, to try to show who he was or who he had become. His actions had done nothing but antagonize the ranchers. Now with John, she was in the picture. It was something they needed to clear up. The two men had enough reasons to dislike each other without John thinking Hank had abducted her.

  “It’s okay, John. Someone stole our horses and we got stranded. We’re headed back to the Double S.”

  John eased along the gorge until he was on level ground beside them. “I’ve got Chester and Ray.”

  “You do?” Shadoe couldn’t contain her delight.

  “I caught them early this morning trying to make it home.” He gave Hank a dark look.

  “Are they okay?”

  John looked back at Shadoe. “Thirsty. Tired. Maybe a little ragged around the edges but they aren’t hurt. How’d they get away from you?”

  “Someone untied them.” Hank’s sentence was an accusation.

  “Well, partner, if you can’t tie a horse, I’d think about learning some good knots.” John lifted one eyebrow in a challenge.

  “Stop it.” Shadoe stepped between them. “I tied the horses and they were secure. Someone turned them loose, but thank goodness they aren’t hurt.” She looked behind John. “Where are they?”

  “Hobbled in the stream. They needed a drink, and I needed them to be quiet.” He motioned the way for them to follow.

  After Shadoe had found the horses and looked them over carefully, she finally joined the two men above the clear, amber stream. They were glaring at each other with deep distrust.

  “Ray and Chester are fine.” Her words dropped into the silence like a stone in a well. She went to the pack, got the canteen and refilled it at the stream. As she worked, Hank spoke. The tone of his voice was easy, almost casual. She felt a whisper of anxiety in his words.

  “Where’d you find the horses, John?” he asked.

  “They were up above the Buffalo Pasture,” he answered warily, as if he sensed the danger in Hank and his questions.

  “They made it all the way back.” Hank’s tone was conversational.

  “Yes, they were eager to get home. They couldn’t find a way around the fence.”

  “I suppose you were just out walking around the Buffalo Pasture, maybe looking for some old buffalo bones for an archeological expedition you’re planning to host. Or maybe you were just out for a little exercise.”

  “Listen, Emrich. I don’t have to take your cute tone and not so subtle innuendoes. If you want to know, Jill called me early this morning. She’d been calling Shadoe and hadn’t gotten an answer. She asked me to stop by the Double S and check on things, just to be sure.”

  Shadoe found herself holding the canteen and listening. She’d been curious, too, how John had found the horses. It made perfect sense that Jill would call him.

  “Must have been some kind of instinct that took you straight up to the most northern of Shadoe’s pastures.”

  “You can skip the sarcasm. I was looking to see if any of her horses were gone. I checked the barn, the west pasture, the Butterfly Field, the Cottonwood Pasture, and finally I was headed up to the Buffalo when I heard the horses calling each other. Once I saw them, it was easy to figure they’d come from the north.” John cocked his head slightly. “But just to be on the safe side, I called Jill and she told me about some old cabin. That was where I was headed, still wondering why she was riding one horse and leading another when she disappeared. It wasn’t too hard to pick up the trail she left behind.”

  Shadoe stood up and brushed her wet hands on her jeans. “Well, thank goodness you found the horses, and they’re here. Let’s mount up and ride the rest of the way back. I’m more than sick of walking.”

  The men stood with her, but they refused to pick up her lighthearted tone.

  “Were Scrapiron and the others okay?” she asked John.

  “Fine. I gave him some hay and checked the water.” He smiled at her. “Everything’s fine, Shadoe, now that I know you’re safe.” He started to put his hand on her shoulder, but she bent to pick up a rock.
r />   She held it up to the light, admiring the stone veined with pink, then turned to Hank. “An arrowhead.” She handed it to him without thought. He had once collected them, and she’d always given her finds to him to keep.

  Hank examined it critically, watching out of the corner of his eye as anger clouded John’s face. “It’s a good one,” he declared, feeling the sharpened edge of the rock with his thumb. “Beautiful. Probably a ceremonial tip. Saved for a sacred hunt or a vision quest.”

  With those simple words, Hank created a moment of intimacy with Shadoe. She looked at him, helpless to hide her feelings.

  “Shadoe, we need to talk.” John reclaimed her attention. “I owe you an apology for the other night.”

  Shadoe shook her head, as much to clear away the magic Hank created as to ease John’s conscience. “Forget it, John. I have.”

  “You forgive very easily these days.”

  She looked past him. “Maybe I’m learning a little about growing up. It’s about time.” She walked past both men, picked up Chester’s reins and mounted. “I’m tired, dirty and I want a cup of hot coffee and a long bath.”

  “An agenda even I could appreciate,” Hank said, picking up Ray’s reins and mounting. “Though I like my original plan much better.”

  Shadoe turned her horse so that neither man could see the pink that touched her cheeks.

  “What are you going to do after your soak?” John asked Hank. “Half the county’s out looking for you. If I’m not mistaken, there’s some type of warrant.”

  Shadoe felt the words like a blow, but one look at Hank’s face showed he wasn’t concerned at all.

  “What warrant?” she asked John.

  The look he gave her was both angry and satisfied. “Trespassing. Harassment. You should know, Shadoe, you’re the one who filed the complaint. Then there’s the little matter that the federal agents are looking for him for some of their own charges.”

  Shadoe looked at Hank. “We’ll straighten this out when we get back home.” She nudged her horse in the ribs and started down the trail toward home.

  When they arrived at the ranch two hours later, Billy was waiting for them on the porch of the Double S, his forehead furrowed with anger and concern. He walked down to the barn to greet them, pausing in the doorway as they untacked the horses.

  “You two are in enough hot water to start a natural spring.” He nodded to John. “Glad you rounded them up. At least Hank will have a chance to voluntarily clear this up. And Shadoe may get the spanking her father always threatened but never gave.” He glared at her.

  “I’d better get home.” John led the big chestnut he’d ridden to a stall in the barn. “I’ll give you a call later, Shadoe.”

  “Thanks, John.” She walked out of the barn, away from Billy and Hank. She put her hand on his arm and looked up at him. “Thanks for finding the horses. I was worried sick. And thanks for coming to my rescue, though I wasn’t in any danger.” She wanted to make that clear.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Fine. It’s been a.long day.”

  “We need to talk.”

  The one thing Shadoe wasn’t up to was another conversation with John. “Let me rest. I’m really dead on my feet.”

  “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Hedging the truth wouldn’t make it any easier on John in the long run. “Part of his troubles are my fault. This goes back a long, long way. It isn’t just recent events.”

  John nodded. “I see.” He picked up the reins and led his horse to the trailer. Halfway there, he turned around. “I wasn’t All-Around Cowboy in 1992 because I quit. I haven’t given up, Shadoe. Not at all.”

  She waved goodbye to him, his declaration making her sad.

  “He’s got it bad for you.”

  Hank’s unexpected words startled her. She turned to find him right behind her. “Leave it, Hank,” she warned him. John wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, especially not with Hank.

  Billy walked out of the barn, his face as angry as when he went in. “Hank, here, refuses to go up to Stag’s Horn and straighten this mess out.”

  Shadoe looked at him, startled. “I’ll explain that my call was a mistake.”

  Hank shook his head. “Harry Code wants nothing more than to send me back to Washington. If I go back up to camp, he’ll do just that.”

  “Be reasonable, Hank, they’re going to issue a federal warrant for you.” Billy spoke with force. “They’ll pull your badge.”

  “That wolf is my responsibility.” He looked at Shadoe. “I brought him here.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Hank.” Billy was growing redder in the face. “This is your career.”

  “No,” Hank said, “this is my life. The job is just a small part of it. I realize that now.”

  “What are you going to do?” Shadoe knew -he’d grown quiet on the ride home, but she hadn’t a clue what he’d been thinking. She didn’t like the way he was looking.

  “I’m going to find Thor, protect the other wolves as best I can.” He looked at Shadoe, then Billy. “Riding home, I realized that I’m in the perfect position to guard them. No one knows where I’ll turn up. I’m a free agent.”

  “You’re a wanted agent,” Billy snapped. “They’ll have a warrant out for your arrest.”

  “Maybe.” Hank shrugged. “Code is capable of anything.”

  “No maybes about it, Hank. Code is letting it be known that he suspects you’re the one who cut the lock on that wolf’s cage. He’s telling the local media you had a personal agenda here in Montana, that you’ve used the wolves for revenge. I hate to say it, Hank, but he’s got the whole countryside fired up against you.”

  Hank nodded. “Harry Code always was an excellent showman, and I suppose the television cameras are eating it up.”

  There was an edge of bitterness in his voice that caught Shadoe hard.

  “Half the newscast this morning was devoted to you and those wolves. He works hard at looking good for the cameras.” The last was spoken with contempt by Billy.

  “Let’s go up to the house, since the horses are settled,” Shadoe said. She wanted a chance to talk with Billy. Maybe they could devise a quick strategy to make Hank see the light.

  “We’ll throw some hay and check the water,” Billy said, nudging Shadoe toward the house. “Go on up. We’ll be there in three shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  “Thanks.” Shadoe felt as if her bones were worn out. She started up to the house, already smelling the pot of coffee she was going to put on to brew. She’d made it to the front door when she decided to go back down to the barn and ask Billy to stay for a steak. With any luck at all, Hank would fire up the grill, and she could throw together a salad. It would be good to have Billy there—for several reasons, one of them being he might be able to talk more sense into Hank than she could alone.

  She turned back to the barn, retracing her steps. The two men had ducked inside. She wasn’t particularly listening, but she couldn’t help hearing their voices, raised in argument. She stopped just at the door, wondering whether she should go on back to the house and start the coffee or interrupt

  “If you think Code’s bad news, you’re in for a bigger surprise. I just heard today that the television station in Billings has hired a new reporter.”

  “I don’t care who the television station hires.” Hank couldn’t hide his irritation. “All those people care about is air time and ambition. They distort the facts to highlight the drama. I’ve known more than enough of them to realize they’re all image, no substance.”

  “You should care.”

  “Give it a rest, Billy. I’m not going back up the mountain and hand myself over to Code because some snotnosed reporter has decided to make me a villain. Code has been trying for the past three years to bust my chops.”

  “Hank, WSTU has hired Kathy Lemon.”

  Inside the barn there was silence. Outside, Shadoe could hear the painful beating of her
heart.

  “She’s been out of the business for a couple of years now. She was selling cosmetics in one of those infomercials.” Hank was surprised. It showed in his voice.

  “It seemed a little coincidental to me, too.” Billy sounded worried. “Hank, she made some serious charges against you. To Shadoe. And to me. We’ve never really discussed this.”

  “That woman just won’t go away.”

  “Are they true? Did you use that woman the way she said?”

  There was a long silence, and Shadoe felt as if she needed to sit down. She waited, afraid to breathe. Scared to make a noise or she might miss Hank’s answer.

  “Yes,” he finally said. “I knew her, and I used her. Or misused her, depending on how you look at the situation. But she begged for it, Billy. She wanted it so bad that she set herself up.”

  “Dammit, Hank.” Billy’s voice was sharp. “Dammit all to hell.”

  Shadoe felt as if she’d been slapped, hard. Her ears rang, her stomach knotted. Her balance was precarious as the blood rushed to her head. Before she could make her legs work, could force herself to go in the barn and confront Hank, she heard a car coming along the drive. Dusk was falling, and the vehicle that approached had its headlights on bright, and it was traveling at a fast speed. Shadoe watched, disoriented. It came straight to the barn at a very fast pace, sliding on the gravel as the driver slammed on the brakes. He was half-out of the car before it stopped.

  “Is Hank Emrich here?” the driver asked.

  He was blond, fit, wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. Shadoe thought she recognized him, but she wasn’t certain.

  Hank came out of the barn, followed by Billy. “Cal! What are you doing here?” He stepped toward the car.

  “Dammit, Hank, I’ve been hunting you everywhere. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell him,” Billy said.